


Blow

by grey_ghost



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), omgcheckplease
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Beyoncé References, Dirty Dancing, M/M, Queen b is present, doing the lords work, kinda but not really shitty/bitty, practically stripping really, slutty dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 17:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6814450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey_ghost/pseuds/grey_ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So i made a post about a headcanon i had on Tumblr and a lot of people asked me to write it.. so I did! My headcanoon was that Bitty is an incredibly dirty dancer, and knows every single word to the most raunchiest songs. Here Jack catches sight of Bitty doing his thing and well.. Bitty shows off!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blow

_I love your face_  
_You love the taste_  
_That sugar babe, it melts away_

Bitty's strawberry blonde head whipped around as he heard Queen Bs voice croon the intro of a song from the speakers Holster had set up in the Haus living room. The usually empty and mostly peaceful room was now filled with drunk, singing people, grinding the night away on the makeshift dancefloor. Bitty struggled out of his apron, the strings choosing this song to be the one time that they put up a fight, before relenting and allowing Bitty free. Being one of the smallest and most aerodynamic people in the Haus, Bitty swiftly made his way through the party goers to reach the dancefloor.

 

 _I kiss you when you lick your lips_  
_You like it wet and so do I_  
_No you never waste a drip_

Bitty's slim and loose hips began to move in time with the music, a well practiced move that was second nature to him and poison to anyone watching. As the music sped up he closed his eyes and raised his hands above his head, sinking back into his position more, gyrating his hips in smooth, wide circles as he dropped his head back, letting the music take him in. Dressed in a tight pink tank top and the shortest shorts he could find that evening, ("Y'all are so delicate!!" He chirped at Lardo and Chowder when their jaws dropped earlier than evening, when he made his debut downstairs.) Bitty was able to move freely and just loved the excuse to show off as much of his body as he could.

 

 _Can you eat my skittles_  
_It’s the sweetest in the middle_  
_Pink is the flavor_  
_Solve the riddle_

 

A pair of hands on his sides, and hips slotted against his own caused Bitty to open his eyes, to see Shitty's face inches away from his own. Not being a time or a place for words, they exchanged a smile and continued their dance, as Bitty lowered his arms to wrap them around Shitty's neck. As they ground their hips and pressed their bodies together until they were nose to nose, Bitty felt Shitty push him backwards slowly to the edge of the dancefloor but thought nothing of it. The few shots Bitty had taken between handing out mini pies, and scolding tadpoles for letting their friends play seven minutes in heaven in his pantry, had clearly hit him, all his inhibitions disappearing as he felt Shitty's warm breath on his mouth. But then all of a sudden, as quickly as Shitty had appeared, he was gone again. Reeling from the absence of pressure and warmth against his body, Bitty forgot where he was and opened his eyes. As he took in his surroundings, he was drawn to a tall figure by the stairs, wearing a red hoodie, who was clutching a Samwell mug in one broad hand with his eyes trained on Bitty. Jack Laurent Zimmermann.

 

 _I'm about to get into this girls_  
_This is for all my grown women out there_

Jack jolted awake as his head dropped over his book for the fourth time that evening. He'd been reading this book for two days and he was determined to finish it tonight no matter what. A yawn and a long stretch later, Jack decided a coffee was his only option, but the party downstairs was an obstacle. Not that Jack minded the parties, he just tried to avoid them as much as he could. He pulled on a hoodie and rubbed his hand through his hair before leaving the room, pausing a second at the top of the stairs to steady his breathing.

  
"Crisse, Zimmermann." he whispered to himself staring at the mug in his hand and squeezing it slightly to ground himself. "It’s a damn house party, you'll be in and out before you know it." Jack counted the steps as he descended the stairs, dodging one or two people as he went. He didn’t recognize the song but that was nothing new, as his ignorance of everything pop culture was one of the main chirping subjects in the house. Jack paused at the bottom of the stairs to take in his obstacles, and felt the tension in his stomach ease slightly as he saw the back of Shitty's head emerge from the pile on the dancefloor. Jack felt a smile creep across his face as he regarded Shitty, and what looked to be like Shitty's date for the night- a very pretty, short haired girl who reminded him vaguely of Bitty. Realizing that the real Bitty might be in the kitchen, Jack took a step forward to find hi, but was stopped by Shitty's movement away from the girl. Who wasn’t a girl at all. Jacks brain reeled as he took in the sight of the creature who had been attached to Shittys hips a second before. Staring right back at him was Eric Richard Bittle.

 

 _I can't wait_  
_'till I get home_  
_So you can tear that cherry out_

 

Bitty sucked in a lungful of air as the piercing blue eyes bored into him from across the room. He felt a blush rise on his cheeks as he realized that Jack had seen him practically rub himself off on Shitty a few seconds before. He moved to turn away before the intoxicated part of his brain took over again, an idea coming to him. "Its now or never." Bitty said softly to himself not taking his eyes from Jacks. "Bless me Queen B."

  
Raising his hands once more over his head, Bitty ever so slowly dropped to the floor, spreading his sinfully strong and toned thighs, not breaking eye contact as he went.

 

 _Ooh I had a naughty thought today baby_  
_Every time I close my eyes_

 

As he raised himself up again he brought his hands up his body, catching his tank top on his way and drawing it up, exposing his toned stomach and broad chest before running both hands through his hair.

 

 _You see it here_  
_Lift it up toss it babe_  
_I know everything you want_

 

The words came as naturally as the moves did to Bitty, and as he rocked his hips back and fourth and pushed the front of his shorts down to expose a patch of pale, soft curls which were tight against the very bottom of his lower abdomen, he began to sing along.

 

 _"Bring your work home on top of me_  
_I'm a let you be the boss of me"_

With one hand still pushing his shorts down, Bitty brought the other one up to his mouth and bit down gently on one of his fingers before he took it in to his mouth entirely. From his distance across the room he could still see Jack gasp and Bitty laughed softly to himself before removing his finger and plunging his hand straight into his shorts.

 

 _"I know everything you want_  
_Give me that daddy long stroke."_

 

Jack felt liked he'd been checked harder than he'd ever been before in his life. All the air had left his body and his blood had rushed to his midsection, leaving him pale and lightheaded. He reached back and clutched the banister of the stairs but couldn’t take his eyes off Bitty. Jésus, Marie, Joseph, that boy was flexible. He could feel the fire in Bittys eyes as he danced, but he thought he could handle it until Bitty had started singing the song. Bitty was saying those words. To HIM. Had Bitty indirectly called him daddy? Jack couldn’t think about it, both for his own sanity and to keep himself from doing something he hadn't done in his own underwear since he was fourteen. Bitty now had his hand in his own shorts, on his own-. Jack went even weaker at the thought and dropped his mug, the noise of it shattering unheard over the noise of the party. Jack couldn’t process any more, until he recognized Bitty and the woman singing in his mother tongue.

  
_"Je ne sais quoi_  
_Chéri, Mvlew_  
_Aswe a, se net al kole."_

 

Bitty turned his back on Jack for the first time since he began dancing, and started to make his way back into the crowd as the song started to fade out. With one last jolt of courage he turned once more to look at Jack and winked at him, before his small body melted and disappeared into the sweaty crowd.

 

Jack couldn’t move. After a few tense seconds, he managed to draw a deep breath and the strength returned to his body. Coffee and accounts of Normandy invasions forgotten, his mind filled with only one thing, Jack raced up the stairs taking two at a time, not taking the time to avoid the party goers like he had last time. He raced to his room and slammed the door behind him, not even thinking to lock it behind him, before he plunged his hand into his now damp and skin tight pants.

 

"Bittttyyy.." He allowed himself to moan before biting down on his lip and closing his eyes.

 

//// The Next Morning////

 

"ALRIGHT YOU FUCKS, EVERYBODY OUT. YOU KNOW THE DRILL AND IF YOU DON’T WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE." The familiar sound of Shitty's voice bawling through his megaphone was, at this point, the Samwell version of the Dawn Chorus. Bitty jerked awake from his nest made of pillows in the pantry. Congratulating himself on such an ingenious sleeping place and clutching his thumping head, he slowly emerged from the closet, out into the mess of a kitchen. People were coming from everywhere, dragging each other through the piles of debris left over from the nights events. Smiling sleepily as he passed Shitty, who winked at him and handed him a trash bag, Bitty slowly started clean up, because the sooner that was over, the sooner they could eat. Half ways through dismantling a Mount Everest of beer bottles, he caught sight of Jack out of the corner of his eye, and turned to greet him.

  
"Mornin Jack", Bitty drawled, his accent more heavy than usual when coupled with a hangover. When met with nothing more than a grunt, Bitty scowled at his Captain.  
"Well then, I don’t know what put a stick up your ass this morning, but pull it right out sir or there'll be no pancakes for you!!"

  
It wasn’t until Jack turned to Bitty fully, not meeting his eyes, that Bitty remembered. The red hoodie. The smashed Samwell mug Ransom had sweeped up earlier. The wide piercing blue eyes staring at him from across the room as he pushed his shorts down enough just to tease.

  
Bitty dropped his trash bag. His hands shook and his mouth dropped open as he attempted to stutter a response.

  
"Jack- I- Im-"

  
Bitty had never run so fast in his life, not from bullies, not during training when the coach made him run until he vomited. He reached his room in less than five seconds and leapt face first onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow, but that didn’t stop everyone in the entire Frat side of campus from hearing his scream.

 

"THE FUCK is wrong with Bitty??" Holster winced as everyone downstairs clapped their hands to their ears.

  
"Absolutely nothing my dearest Holz, expect to be hearing a lot more screams from our lovely Bits this semester." Shitty said with a grin as he passed by, rubbing his hands together with glee;

  
"Now wheres Lards? She owes me 20 dollars and a frappichino. "

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on Tumblr, I'm ohh-watson!!
> 
> Comment are very very welcome! :)


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